


Lost and Found

by dokyun (kissthesea)



Category: Tiny-G
Genre: F/F, Post-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 18:54:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1022219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissthesea/pseuds/dokyun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world is changing and Mint doesn't belong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

> Written for unniedearest @ lj's Halloween Trope Challenge.

Every morning the others gathered around the radio. The thing was old and badly beaten up, but it managed to pick up the frequencies of the few remaining stations in the area. Radio was the only means of communication left. All of the phone lines were defunct. The internet had been one of the first things to go. Mobile devices that now served no purpose whatsoever littered the streets of Seoul. The time when no one could bring themselves to leave their house without their phone were long over.

Mint stayed in her corner and listened to the hush fall over the others as a voice began to report on the day's events. Or at least that was what she assumed these daily broadcasts were about. The reporter's speech was too fast, often far too complex, for her to follow with her six month's worth of distracted language study. Funny how she'd always assumed she'd have time to work on her Korean later after she became a success through her dancing.

Not that the announcers could have been saying much that wasn't already obvious. The white clouds that drifted lazily above were fluffy little lies trying to mask the storms that raged every night. Those who'd gathered in the school were lucky; the gymnasium had solid, enforced walls which could stand the pounding gales and rain that tormented the city. Only during the day did anyone dare go outside, and even then just to find a place where the radio could pick up a frequency. Mint wasn't sure why she chose to join the team who dared to venture out of the walls every morning except that she liked being able to stretch out in the sun for a little while and pretend as if nothing had changed.

The announcer's voice dissolved into static and the others visibly sagged. They were under orders to return to the gym as soon as the announcements finished, but that was never how it went. The outside may have been terrifying at best, but Mint didn't think there was a single person in Seoul who didn't miss it. The city looked nothing like itself, but it was still theirs.

 _Theirs_ , but not Mint's. A fact which was clear when they others cast her wary glances and rolled their eyes in frustration when they had to repeat something in order for her to understand. For the most part they were civil towards her, but Mint caught the sharp glint in their eyes just before they turned away- a small but powerful pang of envy. With communications down Thailand was seemingly in a separate universe, one where, maybe, life was still continuing on unchanged. Mint was no scientist, but she sincerely doubted it was possible for a natural disaster this huge to target a single area, but she also knew that even the vaguest, most unlikely hope that things were okay was enough for these people to look at her with burning, all-consuming jealousy.

Which was probably why no one bothered to come and get Mint when they began preparing to head back. Perhaps they knew that she was familiar with the routine, but she couldn't help the nagging feeling of loneliness that made her lower her eyes at the calm, cheerful banter going on between the other girls. Their whole group, all thirty-six, were young girls, with the except of a few older men who used to work at the school, hence why they tried to be so careful about going out. All of them were around Mint's age, some a few years old, a couple maybe five years younger at the most. For the rest of them this meant a caring, gentle sense of community, but not for Mint.

Someone bumped against Mint's arm as she joined the group. Instinctively she hunched her shoulders and shifted away as soon as she felt the other person look at her. "Oh, it's you," a voice said, and for once it wasn't with the sour tone of distaste nor a cool monotone.

Mint glanced over and found a pair of bright, round eyes gazing back. "You're Mint, right?" the girl asked, and Mint had to stutter an affirmative answer through her surprise.

That was the first time Mint spoke to someone at the school. Her name was Minjung: a soft, white cloud who knew nothing of storms.

 

For a generally kind, gentle girl, Minjung was also terribly insistent. Once she made initial contact, Minjung seemed hell-bent on getting to know Mint as if she were making up for all of the time they could have been talking but hadn't. The girl's sudden interest felt surprisingly nothing like pity; her smiles were too bright and when Mint fell silent or lost her words, Minjung would let the conversation drop and not push any further. Mint couldn't begin to understand where or why Minjung's interest had originated, but she had to admit it was nice not being so alone. Her routine didn't change too much; in the mornings she awoke with everyone else, during the day she wandered around the school and tried to pick up on the conversations, at mealtimes she took her share and curled up in a corner to eat, and at night she found a spot not too far away from everyone. It was just that, now, Minjung was there. Not first thing in the morning, but soon after all of the girls took their turns in the locker rooms Mint usually found Minjung at her side, chatting away. Much of the time Mint found herself lost among the rolling syllables that fell from her new companions mouth, but she liked the sound of Minjung's voice just as much as she liked the words themselves. Minjung never delved into anything serious, mostly light conversation about the weather, gossip about the other girls, lighthearted pondering about what the future may bring. None of it was all that meaningful, but Minjung's voice became a pillar of Mint's existence. All of the other voices blended together in a meaningless jumble, but Minjung's rang clear.

Mid-sentence, Minjung's voice stopped. Mint glanced over and Minjung was staring off into the distance, in the general direction of the others but her eyes were unfocused.

"Do you mind," she began carefully, speaking the deliberate way that meant she really wanted Mint to understand, "that I talk so much?"

Mint blinked and shook her head. Though she didn't turn to look at Mint, Minjung must have caught the motion out of the corner of her eye because she nodded, too, and gently rested her head on Mint's shoulder.

 

With Minjung around, the others started approaching Mint little by little. There was the girl named Dohee who always led the expeditions outside to hear the radio broadcast. Before Mint had never dared talk to the girl because despite her small size Dohee's skill with the radio made her a person with power in the camp. She wasn't particularly intimidating, but when Mint already felt her place in the school at risk she wasn't about to go out of her way to potentially screw up. In reality, Dohee was bored. Constantly, irrationally bored. When she noticed the blossoming friendship between Mint and Minjung she wasted no time in joining them if only to have something else to do with her day beyond maintain the radio and assure the others of its functionality. 

"I didn't know you could talk," she said bluntly the third or fourth time she wandered over to sit cross-legged near Minjung and Mint.

Before Mint could respond, Minjung laughed and replied for her, "Don't you know? She only talks to _me_."

Dohee frowned and made several more attempts to get Mint to open up, but Minjung continued her little game with a light flush of pride on her cheeks when Mint played along as well, also flushing but for no reason she could identify.

Myungji was a little harder to deal with only because unlike Dohee she wasn't so easily distracted. The youngest girl in the group took an immediate liking to Mint for no apparent reason beyond that fact that extra attention made Mint visibly uncomfortable. Even Minjung's games and at times motherly levels of protection weren't enough to fend off the precocious girl.

"You understand a lot," Myungji whispered to Mint one night when Minjung and Dohee were bickering about something Mint couldn't be bothered to decipher. Mint flinched a little but continued watching the other two. She knew better than to expect Myungji would give in, though. "What if I told unnie you pretend so she'll take care of you?"

Myungji actually laughed out loud when Mint turned and placed a hand on her arm. Mint could feel the panic in her eyes and the urgency in how she shook her head. The other girl just sighed and patted Mint's hand gently. Even if she knew Myungji wasn't actually cruel enough to do what she threatened, Mint felt relieved. They exchanged a knowing smile and Mint shifted a little, leaning against Myungji and just barely catching the strangely bothered look Minjung was giving them from where she sat a few meters away.

 

"This place used to be so busy," Minjung mused and ran her fingers through Mint's hair. Dohee and Myungji were off on radio duty that morning, so the two of them lounged in Mint's corner and pretended not to notice the uneasy glances the others were giving them. Minjung was now their leader, the only one familiar with the layout of the building and where they could find supplies, and Mint was an outsider. Almost a year had passed, and more and more stories came through over the airwaves of outsiders being forcibly removed from the remains of society. The public, what was left of it, regarded foreigners with nothing but suspicion. Minjung was doing her best to quell the ebb and flow of their group's anxiety, but nowadays she left Mint's side less and less, and only when Myungji or Dohee were available to take her place. Mint didn't like to think about what might have happened if Minjung had never taken her in, so she didn't.

In an hour Myungji and Dohee would be back. Until then, Mint was more than happy to continue resting her head in Minjung's lap, pretend nothing existed beyond the sounds of Minjung's voice.

"We had assemblies every morning out there," Minjung continued wistfully. "We slept in the dorms, played games late at night when the resident monitors weren't paying attention. We sneaked food out of the cafeteria and had parties in our rooms at the end of testing." All of these stories were familiar now. Minjung only spoke of the school when she was tired, or when she was reaching her limits in some other way. Her fingers tensed on Mint's scalp and Mint could picture Minjung's frown. "But memories are only memories, right?" The quiet voice cracked and Mint's eyes fluttered open. There were tears in Minjung's eyes but she didn't appear to notice Mint watching. "It's time to say goodbye, Mint. We're getting out of here."

 

Late at night, when everyone else was asleep, Mint found it easy to talk to Minjung. She could carry on simple conversations with Myungji and Dohee, but both of them understood that Mint didn't like to push too far. Whenever they found a word she couldn't remember, her face would flush and her new friends would back off with a kind smile. As nice as their consideration was, it felt like there was always a gap between them. The constant watchfulness of everyone around them didn't help. She could swear the men drifted closer every time she opened her mouth. A few times when she mumbled something to Minjung one of them would step closer and demand her to repeat it. The times when they masked their discomfort around her were long gone. Any words or gestures directed towards Mint now bordered on outright hostility.

The way they treated the girls wasn't much better. The initial protectiveness was transforming before their eyes into something else, something more violent. The men were the ones who held the weapons, and the girls were tired. Tired of waiting for life to get better. 

When the others were asleep, though, the repressive atmosphere eased. Minjung didn't seem to mind staying up late to listen to Mint, nor did she ever seem the least bit impatient as Mint struggled and stumbled through her broken Korean. With Minjung, Mint didn't feel self-conscious. She tried to explain complex concepts and with Minjung's help found new words. With Minjung there was no gap, no barrier between them. 

"It's scary," Mint said, as always glued to Minjung's side. "But it's... familiar. Not that different from before. After I auditioned and passed, I thought I would be the same as everyone else, but I wasn't. I didn't understand the teachers. I couldn't keep up. No one cared, either, and they told me, 'Oh, you should study your Korean more. What's wrong with you?' So I studied, for a while, and then I didn't. Nothing changed, but I just wanted to dance. I gave up on Korean and thought I could get by with dancing. People still scolded me, but I didn't listen. I think they thought I would drop out or go away, like I could hop on a boat and go home any time I wanted." She shrugged. "And then everything went away."

Minjung stared off into the darkness, where their companions were sleeping soundly. "I want to see you dance," she mumbled sleepily.

Mint laughed and nudged her friend in the side. "Dance isn't useful anymore. Now I need Korean."

"Can't you have both?"

"Not here," she replied quickly, and then paused. For a second her chest ached and she felt like crying. Minjung's hand tightened around Mint's and for a few long moments they were both silent.

In the darkness, someone snored softly. It sounded like Myungji, and Mint made a mental note to tease her about it in the morning. "They say other countries might not have been affected," Minjung whispered. "Do you think that's true?"

Mint nodded. "When I dream, I see my family. Our house. I think they're okay. They have to be."

With a small smile, Minjung replied, "Then I believe it, too."

 

Mint didn't understand until later just how long Minjung had been planning their escape. Mint hadn't even realized how hard it would be to leave. Only when the four of them were going through their slow, quiet preparations did Mint start to notice the wary way the others kept an eye on Minjung's every movement and, by proxy, Mint's as well. Much of the work had to be done by Dohee or Myungji because they were able to move around without being noticed. Every time Minjung took a step towards a door, one of their companions would approach her about where she was going, how they could help, always with a kindly and supportive pretense. But the second Minjung shied away from the exit, a practically tangible tension in the room would ease, and only when Minjung was settled down again would the eyes shift away. Mint didn't dare try to do anything on her own; Minjung gave her explicitly instructions not to anyway.

While Minjung and Mint kept up appearances, Dohee went on secret missions around the campus. Fetching food here, blankets and clothes there, gathering them in a utility closet near a side door at the back of the school. Everyone knew of the door, but no one had bothered with the closet after Minjung claimed it was empty. Myungji's task was much more difficult, and at first Mint couldn't believe Minjung was asking the girl to do something so apparently difficult. At her orders, Myungji just grinned, and then none of them saw her for three whole days. She returned, covered in dirt and a few bruises, but with a triumphant smile hidden behind her hands. Her appearance was enough to rouse suspicions in the others, and so she was grounded for the next few days, but it didn't matter. The pieces were all in place.

For those few days, they rested. Minjung fell asleep easier, a serene smile on her face, while Mint found it impossible to nod off for a second.

 

That morning, all four went off with the radio team to hear the morning's broadcast. Mint practically clang to Minjung's side as she chatted amicably with one of the men who led the daily trip. The rifle that hung over his shoulder- one could never be too careful with the raids, or so he said- made Mint loathe to be anywhere near him. Dohee and Myungji hung back and yawned, looking anything but enthusiastic. Mint tried to block out the conversation going on between Minjung and the man, but she caught the tail end of a sentence: "- and you know what the rest of the country is doing with foreigners. Think about it."

At times like this, Mint was grateful everyone assumed she didn't understand, but that didn't help the way her chest tightened in panic and Minjung squeezed her hand until Mint took a long, deep breath and suddenly found them at the usual spot. Everyone else knelt around the radio. The second Dohee had it tuned in, she crept off to the side and disappeared. Myungji was already gone, and Mint felt a hard lump form in her throat. Beside her Minjung was too tense, like the slightest touch would break her resolve. This time it was Mint who squeezed Minjung's hand.

Very slowly, the two of them backed away from the group. Step after tortuous step, they didn't dare to turn away, too scared to let their companions- their enemies?- out of their sight for a second. Back around a stack of tires, their line of sight was broken for them. Then they turned and, as fast as their stiff and shaking legs could take them, they bolted behind the back of a nearby building to the truck Myungji and Dohee had waiting. The engine was running, Myungji's foot on the pedal as they climbed into the back. There was shouting behind them and a rifle went off somewhere, the truck's frame shook with the impact, but they were gone, riding through the desolate streets of Seoul.

The back window slid open and Dohee's eyes peeped through the opening. "Where should we go, unnie?"

Crammed between boxes of supplies, Minjung and Mint stretched out on their backs in the truck bed. Minjung's chest rose and fell in a quick, erratic rhythm. For a few seconds she didn't seem to hear the question, and then a slow smile crept across her face. She rolled over onto her side and flopped an arm across Mint.

"Anywhere," she breathed. "Just get us the hell out of the city." 

Above, the bright blue sky spread into infinity. Myungji and Dohee fought with the truck's faulty radio for a few minutes until they finally tuned into the daily broadcast. The announcer's fast, rambling Korean jumbled together in Mint's ears and she had to block it out or she knew she'd get a headache. Beside her, Minjung appeared asleep with her eyes closed and breathing steadily slowing into a calm, natural rhythm. 

"Unnie?" she whispered. Dohee and Myungji bickered in the front seat as they sped past buildings. Everything looked so grey and barren. There were no voices in the city. LED screens stood dark. Shops sat with their contents pouring out of their open doors and shattered windows. Everything good from this place had been ransacked and ruined. 

Minjung's eyes blinked open. "I know exactly where we should go, Mint."

"Where?" she replied, almost scared to ask. The world outside the school was a mystery. For now they may have been out of harm's reach, but they could be driving straight towards more danger.

Such thoughts vanished when Minjung pulled Mint closer, resting her chin against Mint's shoulder and mumbling quietly so that only Mint could hear, "Somewhere with a boat."


End file.
